


What a Shame, the Poor Groom's Bride Is an Alien

by pixie_rings



Series: Shallura Week 2016 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Galra!Keith, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Schmoop, Wedding Planning, background klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7901080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixie_rings/pseuds/pixie_rings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro proposes, Allura doesn't quite understand why marriage is an Earth thing, Lance fails at planning a wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What a Shame, the Poor Groom's Bride Is an Alien

**Author's Note:**

> 29th August - Tradition
> 
> There are so many scenes I wanted to write but didn't have the time to. I'll get them out after Shallura Week is over. Also, the title is SO STUPID.

He was ready. Well, maybe not _emotionally_ , but definitely prepared in that he had everything he needed: a romantic location and a ring. He'd known opals were supposed to be bad luck, but they matched her eyes so beautifully he'd had to get one, and the black sapphires were because he was a goddamn sap. And the romantic location was easy to find, he just had to take her up the mountain where the stars were undiluted by light pollution, and they could sit on the bonnet of their car and stargaze for hours.

The small box seemed to burn a hole in his pocket. He was intensely, madly aware of it, and of her beside him, her breathing, her voice whenever she pointed out a constellation she recognised from the countless times he'd shown them to her.

Slowly, trying as hard as he could to go undetected, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the box. He slid off the bonnet of the car, and her puzzlement made her sit up and watch him.

God, he needed a minute. His heart was racing, almost painfully. He'd never been so nervous.

“Allura?” He turned to face her, gripping the box almost painfully.

“Shiro,” she replied, one pale eyebrow raised in curiosity. His hands trembled slightly.

“Will... Will you marry me?”

Ok, so he hadn't gone down on one knee, but he'd opened the box and presented it to her, heart in his throat and pulse hammering, every cell of his being focused on her, on what her answer would be.

“Oh. Certainly.” Her tone was almost flippant as she lay back down, arms beneath her head, to watch the stars some more.

Shiro felt considerably left behind. He snapped the box shut with a clap and ran a hand through his hair, bewildered. He'd been expecting a bit more... excitement? Maybe a gasp, a tear, a joyful kiss... at least a damn _hug_. This was supposed to be an important moment in their lives, wasn't it? _Some_ drama was to be expected, not just a casual 'uh-huh' and business as usual.

“Um. Allura? Did you... understand the question?” he asked.

She leaned up, propped on her elbows. “Of course,” she said. “That's why I said yes.”

“But...” He trailed off, confused. She scooted down the bonnet until her legs dangled over the edge.

“Did you think I don't understand the concept of marriage?” she says, face pinched suspiciously. “I'm not _stupid_ , Shiro.”

“I never said that!” he protested. “I just... maybe I was expecting a bit more _enthusiasm_?”

Allura tilted her head to the side slightly. “Why?”

Shiro blinked. Why indeed? He stayed silent, searching for an answer.

“Alteans don't have a concept of marriage, Shiro,” she said. “We eradicated it from our culture seven thousand years before the war with the Galra. It was unnecessary, and limiting, and a senseless obligation.” She plucked the box with the ring from his hand, and he swallowed, suddenly fearful of what she might do with it, without knowing why. She plucked the ring from its cushion and held it up, admiring it, smiling. “We don't have dowries or feel the need to buy love with pretty baubles. We don't need a contract to know when we want to be with someone forever.”

“So why did you say yes?” Shiro demanded. Some part of him felt angry about how frivolous she found this. He'd spent forever finding the right ring. He'd practised the question in front of the mirror for hours when she wasn't around. He'd poured his heart out to Lance, Keith, Hunk and Pidge until they'd been sick of it.

“Because it's important to you?” she said, as if the answer was obvious.

“You don't have to _appease_ me,” he said, and it came out harsher than he'd planned.

“I'm not appeasing you,” she answered icily. “Do you think I would agree to a primitive contractual agreement with just anyone? Do not presume things of me, Black Paladin.”

She hadn't called him that for years. It was as if time had rewound itself, and they were back on the castleship, desperately trying to cling to a professionalism neither of them wanted but both felt they were obliged to commit to. It felt _cold_.

By the look on her face, she immediately regretted it. She stood, placed a tentative hand on his arm, biting her lip.

“Forgive me,” she murmured. “I... I simply thought that if you needed this to believe my heart would be forever yours, then it was a small price to pay.”

She was clutching the ring in both hands, holding it between them, staring at it. He sighed, folding his hands, real and replaced, around hers.

“It's not supposed to be a price to pay,” he said. “It's supposed to be a mutual decision based on what we feel for each other.”

“I've been yours from the moment I first called you _arlnath_ ,” she muttered. “We live together, we lead together, our existences are intertwined. What difference does marriage make?”

“I guess I just... wanted it to be official,” Shiro said. “I don't know, it's stupid.”

“It is _not_ ,” she said. “It's... just different to how it was done at home.”

“That's ok.”

“I'm sorry for seeming so disinterested,” she mumbled. “It's not that I don't care, it's just that I...”

“Don't really understand?”

She nodded, pouting slightly, still staring at the ring.

“Well,” he began, plucking the ring from her fingers and lifting her left hand, “it's not that steep of a learning curve.”

He slid the ring on her finger, pleased to see he'd guessed the size perfectly. It stood out, glimmering, against her dark skin, perfect on her delicate fingers. She smiled.

“It is a _very_ pretty bauble,” she admitted, moving her hand to watch it sparkle. He chuckled, winding his arms around her, pulling her close.

“It's not a bauble when it cost over about six hundred dollars, babe,” he said drily. She giggled, smacking his chest gently, and he kissed her on the forehead.

* * *

“Show us the goods,” Lance said, almost as soon as he stepped in the house. Hunk was right next to him, and even Pidge seemed interested. Allura held her hand up, Lance took it and peered at the ring.

“Opals are bad luck,” he said, giving Shiro an unimpressed look. “You want your fiancée to break her legs as she walks down the aisle?”

Shiro rolled his eyes. “It's a _rock_ , Lance. It has no power over anyone's life.”

Keith folded his arms and shook his head. “He's been like this ever since you said you were going to propose,” he said, disgusted, as he headed over to stand next to Shiro, who was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

“I think it's pretty,” Hunk said, elbowing Lance for being rude. “Congratulations, Allura.”

“About time!” Pidge said, tossing their hair. “I mean, you've been practically married for years.”

“Yes, we have,” Allura said, pointedly looking over her shoulder right at Shiro with her eyebrows raised. He shrugged at her, which just made her sigh in exasperation.

“So, have you set the date?” Lance asked, once they'd all gravitated to the kitchen and been given mugs of coffee or tea, depending on who was who. Shiro and Allura exchanged a look.

“Uh, well... we haven't even told my mother yet,” Shiro admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat down next to Allura. Hunk immediately went for the plate of biscuits Shiro had set in the middle of the table.

“Are you looking for more of a summer wedding, or a spring wedding?” Was his question. “Also... what did Coran say?”

Allura winced. “Well, since we Alteans don't get married, he was somewhat confused, at first.”

“He seemed ok once we explained it,” Shiro added.

Pidge looked up from blowing on their coffee. “Alteans don't have marriage?”

Allura shook her head. “No, we just... stay together.”

“Living in sin,” Lance said, shaking his head in disgust.

“As if _we're_ not doing exactly that,” Keith said, rubbing his face in annoyance. “But, like... it doesn't have to be a big ceremony, you know. You could probably just head to the town hall and sign a piece of paper today, with us four as witnesses.”

“I vote for that option, it's practical,” Pidge said, raising their mug in a sort of toast.

Allura turned to Shiro. “We could -”

“I think my grandmother would kill me,” Shiro said. “She wants something a bit more fancy. Not showy, just... an event.”

“Hear hear,” Lance said, smacking Hunk's hand and taking the last biscuit for himself. “You want this to be memorable. It's important.” His eyes lit up. “The white dress, the church, the flowers, the hordes of relatives, everyone crying...” He sighed. “Once in a lifetime.”

“Not with today's divorce rate,” said Hunk gloomily, which earned him a glare. “It doesn't have to be like Lance said. You can get married anywhere: on the beach, in a field, in a forest, in a castle... anywhere.”

“In a bear pit.” Was Pidge's helpful suggestion. Lance looked disgusted.

“Well, what's important is that it's the kind of wedding you two want,” Hunk said. “What kind do you want.”

“I don't really care,” Allura said. Lance placed a hand to his chest in outrage.

“You don't _care_?” he echoed, scandalised. “Allura, you're the _bride_! It's _your_ day!”

She raised an eyebrow. “I've had enough pomp and circumstance in my life to last me the rest of my days. I've been paraded up and down in uncomfortable dresses, waving to the populace, smiling until my face ached. I've lost count of the ridiculous but necessary rituals we participated in while saving the universe. If we have to have anything, it should be simple.” She looked at Shiro. “If... that's all right?”

Shiro shrugged. “Sounds fine to me, to be honest.”

Lance sighed. “You two seriously need a wedding planner.” He was quiet for a moment. Then his expression changed, slowly, like dawn over a mountain, from exasperated to enlightened. Keith seemed to read him like a book.

“No!”

“Shut up, it's genius!”

“I said no, it's nothing to do with you!”

Lance ignored him, instead looking right at Shiro and Allura. “How about... me and Hunk plan it?”

“Me?” Hunk said, pointing at himself in disbelief.

“Sure, buddy! We'd make it _amazing_!”

“We would, though,” Hunk said with a small, wistful sigh.

“How about it?” Lance asked. “We'd be your official wedding organisers!”

Shiro opened his mouth. He had to say no, nip this in the bud before it got out of hand and everything went to hell, but betrayal sat next to him, and happened to be the woman he loved.

Allura smiled. “Why not?”

* * *

Shiro knew it was a terrible idea. It was probably the worst idea in the long, frustrating history of worst ideas. And yet, it was happening. To him.

Lance was his wedding planner. Everything had suddenly gone violently and brutally downhill.

Fortunately, Lance also seemed almost monothematically fixated with getting Allura interested in her own wedding. Knowing just how stubborn she was, this was an exercise in futility, but it kept Lance occupied and well away from Shiro.

“April, huh?” Matt said, sipping his coffee. “Isn't that a little soon?”

“We've been together nearly ten years,” Shiro pointed out. “It's not as if I'm going to have second thoughts now.”

“True. Well, you have two months to change your mind.”

Shiro found himself eyeing the bridal shop across the street, sizing up the flouncy dresses that were more like cakes than gowns. He tried to imagine Allura in one of them, and even though she could wear literally anything and be absolutely flawless, the mental image wasn't as flattering as it should have been.

“I'm the one that asked,” Shiro said. “If there's anyone who's having second thoughts, it's her.”

“And why?”

“Altean culture doesn't have marriage. At all.”

Matt just looked confused. “So how do they work out belongings and custody of children and stuff?”

“We don't share property, and we take equal care of the children.”

Allura looked harried, eyes constantly darting to the door, her hair a bit tangled. She looked like she'd been running. She borrowed a chair from the table next to theirs and sat with a deep, weary sigh.

Shiro kissed her on the cheek. She smiled slightly, but her expression turned sour again almost immediately.

“He's a _nightmare_ ,” she said dramatically. “Hello, Matt.”

Matt turned back from where he'd been looking out the window and nodded. Neither of the two men needed to be told who she was talking about.

“He spent literally an entire thirty Earth minutes – I know, I counted them – talking about _flowers_. Flowers! I love flowers, but not _that_ much! He even told me they had _meanings_! As they weren't just _plants_! And then he started talking about _centrepieces_ and I had to get away.” She rubbed her eyes with a groan. “I'm going to murder him and scatter his ashes on Taranvik-nur.”

“How exactly did you get away?” Matt asked, lips twitching.

“I shoved a chair under the door of the pizza place I pushed him in and ran,” she said darkly, and Matt burst out laughing. Shiro shook his head, trying to stifle his laughter and finding it impossible.

“Do they do the hot chocolate with the marshmallows here?” she asked, poking Shiro in the arm.

“They certainly do,” he said. “I'll get you one.”

Allura didn't answer. Her eyes were wide, full of abject terror as she stared out the window.

“Eek!”

Suddenly, she was gone. Shiro peered under the same, and saw a tiny, Arusian version of Allura hiding beneath the windowframe. She buried her face in Shiro's leg.

“Hide me!” she hissed.

The door opened, and Shiro bolted upright, incredibly interested in his coffee as he moved his coat to hide her better. Two hands slammed on the table.

“Hey, Lance,” Matt said, nodding.

“Where is she?” Lance demanded. Shiro shrugged.

“Haven't seen her,” he said. Lance's eyes narrowed.

“Well... tell her when you do that she's in big trouble,” he said. “She locked me in a goddamn Pizza Hut! I'll get my revenge.”

He pointed a dramatic finger at the both of them, and then stormed out, disappearing down the street. Shiro raised a flap of his coat.

“It's safe.”

Allura pulled herself back up on the chair and breathed a sigh of relief. Matt tapped her on the (tiny) shoulder, clearing his throat and jerking his head in the direction of the rest of the coffeeshop.

It was eerily quiet. Everyone was staring, even the baristas. One had poured an entire pot of coffee onto the floor instead of into a cup.

“Time to go,” Shiro said, standing quickly and leaving a handful of notes on the table. “Keep the change!” he called as he quickly closed the door behind them.

* * *

Dodging Lance had become second nature to Allura, but there was one thing she couldn't put off any longer, apparently.

“I'm going to try on dresses,” she said, her tone one of immense suffering. “Want to come?”

“Technically I'm not allowed to see your wedding dress before the wedding,” he said. “Bad luck.”

Her expression was so unimpressed he felt like he'd personally disappointed her deeply. “I thought you didn't believe in luck.”

“I don't, but I believe in Lance never shutting up about it,” he replied. “I value what little sanity I have left.”

“Very well. Abandon me.” She pecked him on the cheek and was gone.

When she came back, however, several hours later, she seemed much happier.

* * *

Time surged on, and in no time at all it seemed that April was looming on the horizon. Shiro felt nervous, all of a sudden. He'd asked Keith to be his best man practically the day after he'd asked Allura to marry him. Lance and Hunk were actually doing a good job, especially since the bridal boutique incident (which Allura had complained about in excruciating detail) seemed to have put him in his place. There was one problem.

They had no venue.

It seemed every place within a fifty mile radius was booked or closed. Going further afield, though simple due to the Lions, would have been ridiculous.

Lance flopped onto the table, mock-crying into his arms, his phone discarded. Shiro gave him a lukewarm pat on the back.

“We'll think of something...” he said. Lance's head snapped up, his eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring.

“I've tried everywhere!” he hissed. “Every denomination of church, even the goddamn Mormons. I've tried every secular venue I could find. Nothing. Is everyone getting married on April the 14th?”

Hunk, who had been flicking through what Lance called the Bible and was actually just a sort of scrapbook he'd compiled of every possible thing that the wedding might need, stopped on a page.

“What about... this?”

Both Lance and Shiro looked. There was an arbour, shaped like the doorway to a cathedral, entwined with white roses. It almost looked like a set piece from the Lord of the Rings.

“So... we do it in the garden?” Lance asked. He looked at Shiro.

Allura always seemed to be happiest outside, come rain or shine. Nature seemed to like her back, as well, if her spectacular way with the garden was anything to go by. Shiro smiled slightly. If he looked out the kitchen window, he could see her kneeling in front of one of the flowerbeds, hands filthy, hair tied back messily.

“I think that could work,” he said.

* * *

“The wedding,” Lance announced, “is in two days.”

Allura was sitting on the steps of the front porch. Lance stood in front of her, arms folded.

“So far, you have thwarted my attempts to instruct you in the ways of Earth marriage.” He pronounced 'marriage' as _marriáge_. “But all is not lost.”

Allura propped her chin up on her hand, trying her best to look the highest amount of bored possible. “Does it matter?”

Lance glowered at her. Over on the swingseat, with nothing better to do than be only a mildly entertained audience, Shiro and Keith were watching, Keith with his legs propped up on the railing of the porch.

“I don't know why he keeps insisting,” Keith muttered, “the only thing she gave in on was the dress.”

“I suspect that was because it was a dress,” Shiro mused. From where he was sitting he could admire the curve of her neck, visible due to the thick braid curling over her shoulder, the point of her ear, the angle of her jaw.

It hit him, then, like a ton of bricks, that he was marrying her in two days' time. He was going to stand in front of their friends (more like family), his mother and grandmother, a few acquaintances and an ordained minister and pledge himself to her for the rest of his life. His heart felt as if it was swelling to twice its size.

“Tell me again,” Allura said, tonelessly.

“Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue,” Lance recited.

“Why?”

“Good luck,” Lance supplied easily.

“Luck is a non-existent construct developed by fearful species to somehow fill the void due to the natural uncertainty of life,” she said, making Keith snort.

“What a ray of sunshine,” Lance drawled. “Come on, Allura, it's just stupid Earth customs! You'll never have to bother with them again, after this. Humour me!”

“Worry about your own wedding,” Allura said easily. “Ask Keith to marry you.” She turned and gave Keith a radiant smile that somehow seemed to also be pure evil. Keith turned a sickly shade of lilac.

“Don't give him _ideas_!” Keith balked.

But Lance was already at the railing, shoving Keith's feet off, glaring dagger at him. “Are you saying you _don't_ want to marry me?” he said dangerously. Keith swallowed, his ears flattening against his skull.

“M-maybe one day?” It was a brave attempt. It was also a terrible attempt which had Lance sulking for the rest of the afternoon, despite all of Keith's protests.

Allura made her way to the swingseat, looking very pleased with herself.

“I take it you did that on purpose?” Shiro said. She settled in his arms, legs thrown over his, her head tucked under his chin.

“Of course,” she answered.

* * *

Shiro took a deep breath, adjusting his tie, eyes locked on those of his reflection. He shouldn't have been this nervous. It wasn't as if he didn't already know Allura, and love her. He looked at himself, took in his premature lines and his more salt than pepper hair, the extra scars running up the side of his face. He clenched his fists.

Maybe all of this was just to reassure himself. Maybe it was just a vain attempt to keep her tied to him, so terrified of her finally seeing the empty husk he was and realising the mistake she'd made.

There was a soft knock on the door. He hesitated, forcing his thoughts back in line, before opening the door.

He didn't expected Allura to duck inside, tugging her train after her, and close the door behind her. He couldn't help but stare.

She was resplendent in white lace and silk, the dress hugging her figure, sheer sleeves cascading over her arms. Her hair was braided intricately, piled on her head, but her eyes... her eyes were always the most beautiful thing about her. Her expression, though, was shock. She looked him and down, breaking into a small, happy smile.

“You look so handsome,” she said. She reached out a hand and he took it, gently pulling her closer.

“And you're breathtaking,” he said. He touched their foreheads together, watched her eyes slip closed a moment before his own, their hands joined.

“I'm not supposed to see you before the ceremony,” he said, chuckling.

“Any way I can annoy Lance, I will,” she replied. “You've been having doubts.”

His breath hitched, ever-so-slightly, but enough for her to notice. He stepped back and sat down on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.

“What if I'm doing this just for me?” he said, voice shaking. “What if I'm trying to trap you, or something?”

The bed shifted with Allura's weight. He felt her arms around him, pulling him against her, tight, fierce.

“Your doubt only proves it's real,” she said. “Shiro... I love you. You are my _arlnath_ , the love of my life. You don't tether me, you anchor me.” She pulled back, tilting his face up. He could see tears at the corners of her eyes, her smile trembling. “You are my home, not my prison.”

He pressed his hand to her, turned his head enough to kiss her palm. “I love you,” he murmured. “I love you so much.”

“Then we'll show the whole world,” she said. “Or... at least people we know.”

He laughed softly, drinking in the sight of her face, her nose, the curl of her hair around her cheekbones, her markings, her pale eyelashes and soft, full lips, her starlight eyes. From the look in them, she could see in him what he saw in her.

A knock at the door jerked them from the reverie. Before Shiro could say anything, Lance barged in, followed by a nervous-looking Keith.

“I'm appalled! So much bad luck!” he cried. “You can be mushy _after_ the goddamn ceremony!”

Allura rolled her eyes and stood. “Take care of him,” she said to Keith before being chivvied away by an indignant Lance. Once the door was closed, Keith let out a strange noise that was halfway between a wail and a groan.

“Most people start with 'hello',” Shiro said. Keith bit his bottom lip, sharp white teeth standing out against the purple.

“I've never been a best man before,” he said. “Cut me some slack!”

“Think of how terrifying it'll be when you're a groom,” Shiro retorted wryly.

* * *

“Do you still have the rings?” Shiro whispered. He hand his hands clasped in front of him as time seemed to dilate the seconds to aeons. His palms were sweating.

“We're covered,” Keith said. Chibo and Neshu, one mouse on each of his shoulders, squeaked their agreement, each holding a ring. Shiro couldn't help but rub his still-bare left ring finger, both excited and terrified that there would soon be something eternal on it. He looked out at the guests.

There was his mother, beaming at him, looking so proud. His grandmother was, of all the ridiculous things to be doing, taking a selfie with Pidge, throwing up a peace sign. Next to Pidge was Lance (already sniffling) and next to him, Hunk, in the same state. Matt was there, and Dr and Mrs Holt, old acquaintances from the Garrison and a whole chair just for Piya and Yimi, of course.

He felt slightly breathless when she appeared at the end of the make-shift aisle, her arm in Coran's. She'd foregone the veil as she threatened she would, and that was more than fine. There was no music as she walked down the aisle, but he could almost hear it, something like a choir of angels, he supposed. Coran was sniffling, he realised, only half-paying attention when all he could look at was her.

She took his hands when she reached him, her smile broad and beautiful and everything good in this world.

The celebrant, thank God, kept it short, sweet and to the point, otherwise he was sure Pidge would have yelled at her to get on with it.

“I... I haven't prepared any vows,” he admitted sheepishly. “But... I don't think I need to. The fact we've come through what we have, side-by-side, together... I think that's a promise enough. I'll be there. I'll stand by you, for as long as I draw breath, and I'll love you just as long as well.”

“ _Arlnath_ ,” she said, “just calling you that is enough for you to know the depths of my love for you. I don't pretend to understand this tradition, but if it means spending the rest of our lives together, then I welcome it. Never far will I stray, never will you not be in my thoughts, never will I not protect you, never will my love falter. My word is my bond, and this ring is yours.”

He slid the ring onto her finger, and she did the same with him. It felt strange, but also cathartic, powerful. He raised his eyes, met hers, and he could see the rest of his life reflected there.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the celebrant said.

He stumbled backwards as she threw her arms around his neck, her lips planted firmly on his. He wound his arms around her, lifting her up, lost in the kiss.

* * *

Keith's best man speech was an absolute mess, but it was undeniably him, socially awkward pauses and everything. He'd sat back down at the end, blushing indigo, and Lance, eyes still red and puffy, had kissed him on the cheek to comfort him. He was still holding the bouquet he'd taken to the head once Pidge decided that flying it around remotely wasn't fun anymore. There had been congratulations, and pats on the back and well-wishes, and dancing, and far too much booze.

Lance had his head in Keith's lap, snoring. Keith's eyes were half-lidded, his fingers in Lance's hair, ready to doze off himself. Pidge was curled up next to them like a cat, the mice snoozing along with them, too much of a lightweight to last more than three glasses of champagne, their head on Hunk's belly. Hunk himself had finally drifted off once the rest of the guests were gone. Coran was still humming old Altean tunes to himself, making his last glass of wine count, his legs propped up on the chair in front of him. Shiro had seen his mother and grandmother off in a taxi back to their hotel, and the Holts had left not long after, Matt a little too drunk for his own good.

It was quiet now, the stars out and the garden a little bit of a mess, but neither Shiro or Allura could be bothered to care, not when he had his arm around her and she had her head on his shoulder, her bare feet dark against the grass.

“You know,” he murmured, “there's still a couple of Earth traditions for after the wedding.”

“Such as?” she prompted.

“I'm supposed to carry you over the threshold,” he said.

“Not likely.”

He chuckled. “And there's also, well... the wedding night.”

It was nothing they hadn't done before, countless times, but somehow tonight felt a little different.

She looked at him. He raised his eyebrows, and she grinned back.

“What are we waiting for, then?” she asked, her laughter musical.


End file.
